


somewhere i have never travelled (gladly beyond)

by Raissassampaio



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts, Jily Trope Fest, Romance, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raissassampaio/pseuds/Raissassampaio
Summary: It's Lily's birthday and there's a strange noise coming out of her bedroom window.





	somewhere i have never travelled (gladly beyond)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for any errors you might/will find in this fic. I couldn't find a beta for it, English is my second language and I haven't set foot in a class in about 10 years - so I'm really sorry if it's too unpolished or full of grammar mistakes. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a part of a WIP I'm writing, but I got excited and just really wanted to write it for Lily's birthday. 
> 
> I know a lot of people in the Jily fandom have this head cannon that Lily was afraid of heights/didn't know or like flying; but let's try to roll with a different perspective here, if you're interested :)
> 
> I absolutely love this poem by E.E.Cummings, it's one of my favorites, and I love the combined imagery of it and this story. 
> 
> P.s.: comments are better than cake!

Somewhere I have never travelled, (gladly beyond)

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond  
any experience, your eyes have their silence:  
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,  
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me  
though i have closed myself as fingers,  
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens  
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and  
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,  
as when the heart of this flower imagines  
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals  
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture  
compels me with the colour of its countries,  
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes  
and opens; only something in me understands  
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)  
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands  
( E.E. Cummings)

At first, she thought she might be hearing things. Or maybe she had drifted off to sleep as she was reading her muggle novel, and the insistent noise was something from her dreams. But no, she was definitely awake, and there was a knocking sound somewhere in her room at the Head quarters.

She opened the door first, but found that there was no one there. When the knocking became more insistent, she listened to it carefully and realised it came, as unbelievable as it may seem, from outside her window.

When Lily glimpsed the silhouette through the stained glass window, she knew nothing good – or something too good to be true – was coming. And sure enough, seconds later, she was staring at the mop of unruly black hair and the charming crooked grin of James Potter.

“What on Earth are you doing here, James?”

“Is that any way to greet me, Evans?” 

“With you flying outside my window in the middle of the night? Yeah, I reckon it is.”

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in? That’s kind of rude, you know. I’m freezing my arse here.”

“By all means, Mr. Potter, do come in. ”, she said, rolling her eyes and smiling at him as she stepped aside to allow him passage. James entered the room, the cold winter breeze that served as his companion making Lily shiver in her nightgown.

“I know that it might not have carried the same James Potter dramatic flair, but you could have just knocked on the door like a normal person, you know? You’re just in the next room.”

“I know. But then it wouldn’t have the same effect for your birthday surprise.”

“My birth-?”, started sputtering Lily. She then looked at the clock on her wall – it marked 00:03 a.m. She was turning eighteen today. 

“Happy birthday, Lily.”, he announced when she turned around to look at him again. He was looking at her with such fondness in those bright hazel eyes; and even thought she was tall, when they hugged, she was just the right height to rest her head on his warm chest and listen to his always frantic heartbeat. It seemed fitting that he’d be the first one to wish her a “happy birthday” that year, since he had shaped it in so many ways.

“Thanks, James.”, she said, smiling coyly at him when they separated.

“You’re welcome. And now for the first part of your birthday present…”, James cheered, reaching for the broom he rode on and passing it to Lily. It was then that she noticed that it wasn’t his actual broom, and that the item was wrapped up in tissue paper – now notably wrinkled in a few places by what could only be James’ butt and hands. 

“James?”, exclaimed Lily, sending and odd look in his direction.

“Go ahead, Lil. Open it.”

The girl sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers making quick work of the thin paper and ribbons that tied it and revealing a beautiful broom, unlike any Lily had ever seen. The model was a Comet 1000, that much she could identify; but the wood used was a deeper chestnut colour than the one on the standard edition, and on the end of the handle, there was a delicate ‘L.E.’ written in golden paint with a beautiful calligraphy. 

“Oh, James. It’s beautiful, it really is.”, she said, stroking the handle and then looking at him, who was now sitting beside her, with her green eyes shining. “But I can’t accept it. It must have cost you a fortune; it’s clearly custom made. And I don’t even need a fancy broom like that; I don’t even play Quidditch… “ 

“Stop it, you silly”, he said, putting a finger to her lips to stop her from talking. A quick thought passed unbidden through Lily’s mind, an impulse to kiss that warm, callused finger. She rapidly shoved it aside, swallowing hard and paying attention to what he said. “I wanted to give it to you.”, he continued. “I remember you talking about how much you loved flying and that you didn’t get to do it enough because you didn’t have your own broom.”

“But brooms are so expensive! If you really wanted to give me one, you couldn’t just get one of the cheaper models?”

“You really didn’t expect me to do this half-way, did ya, Evans?”, James scoffed, as if the idea of him doing something that wasn’t absolutely over the top – specially if it was about Lily Evans – was laughable. Which, quite frankly, it was.

“Good point.”, she conceded, nodding her head. “Did you put my initials on it just to make sure I couldn’t return it?”, asked Lily, arching her eyebrows in James’ direction and barely supressing a smirk.

“Well, I think they look quite elegant, to be honest. But it is a bonus, I admit.”, he answered, shrugging.

“Prat.”, she said, a full grin now lighting up her gorgeous face. James forgot himself for a few seconds, amazed that he was the one that made her smile like that. He thought he was getting a little lightheaded. 

“So, uh, do you want to take her for a spin?”, he fumbled for something to say.

“Oh, it’s a she?”

“All brooms are, Evans. Keep up. So… Do you?”, he repeated the question, nodding towards the window.

“What, now?”

“No time like the present.”

She hesitated for a second or two, but then announced: “Yeah, Potter. Okay. Let me get my coat.”

Lily grabbed her favourite wool coat, a creamy coloured, long piece; wearing it over her nightgown, and put on a pair of boots. She twirled for James, her red hair like a curtain on a windy day, her citric smell filling the room.

“How do I look? Any chance of winning any fashion awards?”

“Fashion-wise, I’d say your chances would be pretty slim. But I’d vote for you anyway, ‘cause you’re pretty.” Before any of them could think about that statement, James got up from the bed and pulled Lily’s hand. “Now c’mon, Evans. Show me what you can do on that broom.”

* * *

Her back was to his chest; their hearts aligned as they traipsed through the starry sky in Lily’s broom. She could feel the muscles on his chest expanding and contracting while he breathed, how he was warm when the world around her was so cold, how she seemed to be just the right size to fit into his arms, if he were to put them around her. He could feel the way her body vibrated every time she laughed when she made a particularly daring turn, her hair tickling his nose as it flew wildly in his face sometimes, and how close the soft skin of her neck came to his mouth one time, when she threw her head back.

When Lily started heading towards the Lake, she heard James’ voice from behind her, a whisper in her ear: “Do you trust me?”

“What? Of course not, you’re James Potter!”, she answered jokingly, not knowing where he was trying to get.

He just continued in silence, apparently waiting for a real response from her.

“Yeah, James. I trust you.”, she said, trying to look at him as best as she could from her position, her face sideways.

“Alright, Evans.”, she could feel the smile in his voice. “Remember, you trust me.”

He put his hands over hers, taking over the broom’s command. And suddenly, they were diving towards the lake quicker than Lily thought any object could fly. She bit her lips, swallowing a scream or a laugh; and then James swerved the broom just in time as they hit the surface of the water. He slowed the pace down, and intertwined his fingers with hers. He then started to lift them up, one by one, slowly, so she wouldn’t be holding onto the broom anymore.

She closed her eyes, letting her hands dance freely with his in the blue vastness, the toes of her boots touching the surface of the water.

* * *

James put his hands firmly back on the handle and guided the broom back up; but instead of giving the command back to Lily, he led them to the Quidditch pitch. From high above the ground, she could see a small gathering of floating lights somewhere near the centre of the grassy field.

“What is that?”, she asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh, Merlin, what are you up to, Potter?”

“Such anxiety, Evans! We’re almost there already…”

When they laded on the patch of grass near the glowing orbs, Lily could see they formed a small roof over a tartan quilt. Over it, there were a few blankets and pillows; and she immediately abandoned her boots and wrapped herself on the blankets, a little lump of cosiness underneath the twinkling lights. James sat beside her, wrapping a blanket around him too, and smiling from ear to ear at the way she nuzzled her cheeks in the soft material of the quilt.

“Fuck, James… This is beautiful.”, Lily smiled.

“Your eyes aren’t even opened, you ninny!”, James answered, laughing and pinching her on the side.

“My eyes don’t have to be opened, you git!”, she shrugged and beat his hand away.

“Oi, wake up!”, James whined. “I got something else for you.”

“Oh?!”, Lily exclaimed, opening her eyes right away and sitting up straight. He reached for something on the far corner of the quilt; behind a pile of pillows that Lily had neglected to pay attention to. And then James’ hands returned – one holding a plate filled with cookies and the other wrapped around a bottle of Ogden’s finest.

“Are those Maisie’s cookies?”, Lily pointed towards the plate.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Merlin! These are the best! Remind me to thank her.”

“Oh sure. Thank only her and not the poor bloke who had to distract the other 500 hyperactive and very insistent house-elves from the Hogwarts kitchen in order to secure these very cookies for you.”

“Wow, dramatic much? I think you are spending to much time with Sirius.”, Lily rolled her eyes, afraid that if she looked into his, he might notice how much affection for him they were holding right now. 

Looking down, she put her hand over his, squeezed it, and started running her thumb so softly in a caress – which was truly all the thanks James could ever want from her, anyway. She took the bottle of Firewhisky, which he knew was her favourite, from his hand and opened it, taking a large gulp.

“Hey, James?”, Lily arched her eyebrows on his direction, issuing a challenge.

“What, Evans?”, he smirked in response.

“Truth or Dare?”, she asked, offering him the bottle; a faint blush on her cheeks betraying her mischievous smile.

James’ booming laughter was his answer when he grabbed the Firewhisky from her and took a sip himself. “Game on, Evans.”

* * *

“This is just cruel.”

“I don’t care. Take. It. Off.”

“You know… I have thought about you saying those words to me many times over the years. But couldn’t you have picked a place more… I don’t know…indoors? It’s fucking freezing, Lily!”

She giggled madly from her place on the floor at James’ feet, who was now standing up and wearing only his trousers. She was quite happy, munching on a cookie while enjoying the view provided by all those years of James’ Potter Qudditch training.

“I told you, I don’t care. You’re the one who picked “dare”. Now take off those trousers and run a lap around that pitch, Potter!”, she tried for a stern approach, but she doubted it had worked, with her not being able to keep a straight face while she pointed her finger at him.

“I’m just saying, if you wanted to see me naked so badly, you could have just asked.”, James said as he unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off, revealing his boxers.

“You’re hardly naked, James.”

“I’m hardly clothed, either.”, he retorted, shivering in the cold as he sprinted towards the edge of the pitch.

* * *

“Oh, it was Alec Caldwell. In fourth year.”, Lily responded.

“The Ravenclaw? Who was a year above us?”

“Yeah.”

James felt a pinch of jealousy. He remembers Caldwell well, a popular, well-liked guy. Good-looking too. But he did ask and she was only answering. In truth, he just wanted to know that her first kiss hadn’t been with Snape.

“Well. I suppose he was a fairly handsome, smart guy. Totally dull and idiotic compared to me, of course. But then, very few aren’t.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular gem alright… Who was yours, anyway?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a Hogwarts girl… We were on vacation in France, and I was 13. Her name was Céline.”

“A French girl, huh?”, Lily mumbled rhetorically as she reached for the Firewhisky, her lips drawn into a thin line. “Was she pretty?”

“Well, yeah.”, James answered, divided between interpreting the motive of her question with a well-deserved caution or his never-ending hope. “But I was 13, Lils. I don’t really think about her.”

“So there is someone you think about?”

“Yes. There is.”, he said, picking up a strand of her long red hair and playing with it.

* * *

“Potter, Black.”, said Lily, adjusting the invisible glasses perched on her nose, her hair wrapped in an bun secured by her wand. She sat with her spine as straight as it could be, a stern expression on her face. “I will not have you two interrupting my class with such silly shenanigans. Now, if you would be kind enough to return to your seats and act your age, I will let you continue on this lesson. Otherwise, you will be out of this classroom quicker than you can say ‘Quidditch Cup’, and you and I both don’t want that, do we, Mr. Potter?”

“We certainly don’t, Professor.”, answered James, laughing his arse off at Lily’s performance as his favourite teacher.

“Stop laughing, you’re the one who dared me do it!”, she complained, pulling the wand out of her hair and relaxing her posture, all traces of Professor McGonagall gone.

“You make quite a decent Minnie impression!”

“Only you could call her that!”

“Sirius calls her that too!”

“You two are one and the same, sometimes.”

* * *

“Your turn to pick now. Truth or Dare?”, Lily asked as she laid on her back beside James, her eyes towards the night sky as she snuggled close to him on the blankets.

“Truth.”, he said simply.

She sighed, distancing herself from him a bit, propping up her chin on her hand so she could look at his face. Maybe she shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t ruin what they had built together. But if Felix Felicis was ‘liquid luck’, then maybe Ogden’s finest was her ‘liquid courage’, because the next words out of her mouth were:  
“Did you ever mean it?”

“Huh?”, was James confused response, his handsome features arranged in a confused frown.

“All those jokes, and those stupid comments, and every time you asked me out…”, she started to explain, looking down intently at the tartan pattern on the quilt; she promptly started to pull at the loose strings of fabric. “I mean, we’re friends now. You can answer me honestly and I won’t hold anything against you. All those stupid attempts to get me to like you… Did you-did you ever really mean any of it?”, she finished, finally looking him in the eye and locking him there; her green irises huge and confident and unwavering now that she had asked her question.

But no words came, and in that silence, Lily was sure she had found her answer – that perhaps he didn’t want to hurt her now by saying it; but he never liked her all that much.

Instead, a pair of lips met hers: soft ones, cold on the outside but warm when she finally opened her mouth a bit and tasted him. He cupped her face with the hand he wasn’t using to prop himself up, kissed her bottom lip once more and backed away slowly; looking dazed. It was a hard, sudden kiss; and much too quick for Lily’s taste.

“I’m sorry”, James said, still pulling away from her, but all the while caressing her cheek. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. We’re friends, I don’t wanna ruin that, I really don’t, I just - ”, he laid down again, running both of his hands over his face. “I just couldn’t have you thinking that I never meant what I said about you. I was probably a prat about it, yeah. But I always did fancy you something awful. I meant every misguided word.”

“Then don’t be sorry.”, Lily whispered, her words so soft in his ears as she got closer and closer to him – he felt her trembling hand splayed in his chest and found her face not an inch away from his. That beautiful upturned nose of hers was brushing his, and then her mouth was on his.  
It might have been sweet and gentle for a moment, but then her hands were on his hair, her chest on his, and she was reaching for him hungrily. She tasted like Firewhisky and wintry air; like years of what if’s and almost’s, she tasted like finally! and it was the best thing that James ever had.

She was laying on top of him now, their legs intertwined and their hands everywhere. Lily was making full use of James’ body heat, her hand running circles on his stomach as she giddily thought: ‘how could I’ve wasted so much time when this feels so good?’

As James’ hands went up Lily’s thigh, past her nightgown and near her butt, she stopped kissing him. He was ready to apologize again – in truth, he had completely lost it the moment she kissed him – how could you not, when one of your dreams were coming true right in front of you? – but she just arched and eyebrow, looked at him coquettishly, and said:  
“So, you’re planning on taking a girl to Hogsmeade first?”

James smile could probably light up the Wizarding World.

“Does that mean you’re finally going out on a date with me, Evans? What happened to the Giant Squid?”

“It didn’t work out. Those merpeople are a bunch of gossips, if you ask me… So what do you say, Potter? Go out with me?”

* * *

“And that, Albus, is why I think it is dangerous to change the Order’s location right now.”, explained Professor McGonagall to Dumbledore as they walked the drafty corridors of Hogwarts.

“I understand, Minerva, but I feel that – “

“STUDENTS, STUDENTS OUT OF BED!”, came crying Mr. Filch. “Oh, good thing I ran into both of you, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall.”, continued the caretaker, nodding his head as a sign of respect. “Students traipsing around at this hour! What disrespect! It would be my pleasure to dole out punishment, ma’am.”

Professor McGonagall looked from Filch’s determined expression to Dumbledore’s small, knowing smile.

“And where would those students be, Mr Filch? I don’t see anyone here with us.”, pointed out the witch. But she did not doubt the caretaker. As simple as he may be, if he understood about something, it was about catching students out of their beds.

Filch’s eyes acquired a triumphant glow as he tapped his bony finger twice in the ornate window. Minerva threw an inquiring look at Dumbledore, who simply shrugged; so she opened the glass – and was met with the sight of a broom flying very slowly on the grounds, with Lily Evans and James Potter as its passengers. As they sat across from each other, defying a few safety rules Minerva new from her Quidditch days, James peppered Lily’s entire face with kisses as the girl laughed prettily. 

The professor’s stern expression involuntarily turned into a smile – which she covered into a cough for Mr. Filch’s benefit.

“I do not think it is necessary to dole out any punishment, Mr.Filch.”

“No? But Professor… “

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Evans are our Head students. They are out on the grounds on Head business. If any inappropriate behaviour occurs, Albus and I will talk to them.”

“Certainly, Professor.”, agreed Filch, disappointed. As the sounds of the caretaker’s steps disappeared, Dumbledore’s laughter filled the corridor.

“Head business, Minerva?”

“Shut up, Albus.”


End file.
